Early in the morning, Shen Jiaru and his son both woke up at the same time.
Seeing his father at the breakfast table, Shen Mo was surprised. His father, who lived on inspiration, usually slept in late. What was different today that got him up so early?
“I’ll take you to the cultural center to learn Go later,” Shen Jiaru said to his son as he nibbled on a bun.
“I’ve already stopped learning Go,” Shen Mo said. He wasn’t surprised at all that his father didn’t know what he was up to.
It was usual.
“When did you stop?”
“At the end of last month. I got bored. Now I go to the youth center library to read and then play basketball.”
“…Then I’ll take you to the library.”
“Are you going to see Hua Jie?”
“…Yeah, the driver is off today, so I called Xiaolei to come and drive us,” Shen Jiaru said.
Zhao Xiaolei was a somewhat special presence to him. Though not a student, he had a place in his heart.
Four years ago, Shen Jiaru noticed a tall, thin young man hanging around the door of the art studio opposite the art supplies store whenever he went to buy painting materials.
After seeing him there six times in a year, he took an interest.
On the seventh occasion, he approached and found out that the boy loved painting but couldn’t afford lessons. So, during his free time at the barber shop where he worked during the day, he would come to the art studio door to watch others learn to draw.
Zhao Xiaolei loves painting, but his academic performance is extremely poor. He didn’t even make it to high school and came out to apprentice as a barber.
Shen Jiaru brought Zhao Xiaolei into the studio, gave him a piece of paper, a pen, and a box of watercolor paints, and asked him to paint.
Although Zhao Xiaolei had never received formal training, he was surprisingly good at painting.
Seeing Zhao Xiaolei struggling but completing a painting according to his own wishes, Shen Jiaru lent him 2000 yuan and sent him to Jinsong Vocational College.
The boy turned out to be quite good. After graduating, he stayed at Jinsong Vocational College as a teacher, and in the first year, he paid back the 2000 yuan.
During festivals and special occasions, Zhao Xiaolei always came to visit and brought gifts. Whenever there were any family matters, Zhao Xiaolei would help out if he knew about them, as if he had gained a virtuous nephew for free.
So, when he had to go out on Saturday, Shen Jiaru simply called Zhao Xiaolei, both to help with driving and to accompany them to the youth center.
“Hey, that sounds good,” Shen Mo raised his eyebrows, feeling interested.
It wasn’t until after breakfast that Zhao Xiaolei arrived. Shen Mo handed him a glass of milk. “Have you had breakfast?”
“Yes, why do you look taller again?” Zhao Xiaolei tilted his head slightly, amazed at how well-nourished young people are these days.
“Yeah, pants got too short,” Shen Mo kicked his leg, indicating that his sweatpants had become too short.
After exchanging a few words, Shen Jiaru came out of the house neatly dressed, and the three of them headed out.
Zhao Xiaolei couldn’t afford a car himself. He learned to drive initially for Shen Jiaru and Shen Mo.
During the past couple of years, he had driven them out for trips during winter and summer vacations, and his driving skills were excellent.
Turning the steering wheel with one hand, he soon arrived at the youth center.
Thinking back to the first time he saw Hua Jie, Zhao Xiaolei couldn’t help but sigh:
“I never expected that child to have such a good opportunity.”
“The child might not necessarily see it as a good opportunity,” Shen Jiaru sighed helplessly. The connections between people were indeed strange. So many people came to him seeking apprenticeship, but he couldn’t see their worth, while the child who took the initiative didn’t take him seriously.
Hmm.
“What do you mean by Hua Jie might not see it as a good opportunity? With such a good thing, how could the child not be willing?”
“He might not see the value in you guys, or even in me.”
“But, Teacher, you’re so talented. Who wouldn’t want to learn from you?”
“Who knows, children’s thoughts are always peculiar. What we consider good, they might think is less important than an ice cream.”
“…?” Zhao Xiaolei furrowed his brow, thinking for a moment, his gaze shifting as he fell into contemplation.
After parking the car and bidding farewell to Shen Mo, he accompanied Shen Jiaru into the youth center building.
The two of them first went to the ground floor art studio. Zhao Xiaolei negotiated with the studio teacher, Sun Nan, while Shen Jiaru walked around the studio with his hands behind his back.
After a while, Zhao Xiaolei found Shen Jiaru and whispered, “Teacher, Hua Jie isn’t here. We’ve come to the wrong place. She’s in another art class upstairs.”
Shen Jiaru nodded, and the two of them left the studio and headed towards the stairs.
Sun Nan came running out, wanting to say something, but Zhao Xiaolei gestured for him to stop, shaking his head to indicate it wasn’t necessary.
Reluctantly, Sun Nan stopped, but his eyes still eagerly followed Shen Jiaru’s figure.
As they reached the second floor, Zhang Xiangyang was moving a chair away from the door, preparing to close the studio door and keep the cold wind outside.
Zhao Xiaolei approached him, said a few words in a low voice, and immediately lit up Zhang Xiangyang’s eyes. Excitedly, he turned to Shen Jiaru and exclaimed, “Teacher Shen!”
Shen Jiaru nodded with a smile and then turned into the studio.
Zhao Xiaolei stood at the doorway, continuing to chat with Zhang Xiangyang. Shen Jiaru walked up to a sample painting on the wall, which was painted by Hua Jie, and carefully examined it.
At this moment, the children were all focused on their drawings. Hua Jie was also copying watercolor paintings at her small desk and hadn’t noticed Shen Jiaru.
However, after a while, Hua Jie overheard someone discussing nearby:
“Have you seen that uncle? I heard he sells paintings for millions!”
“I heard that too. Teacher Zhang just talked to that person. He said the artist has held more than one international exhibition and only returned to Jinsong City a few years ago, preferring the peaceful life of his hometown with distinct seasons and beautiful scenery.”
“If I were that good, I’d move to a big city. It’s so boring in our small town.”
“You guys got it all wrong! Didn’t you hear what the person who came with the famous artist said? The artist is here to take on apprentices. He wants to see if anyone paints well enough to become his personal disciple.”
“That’s right. I heard that if you’re accepted as an apprentice, not only do you learn all the master’s skills, but you also inherit his connections in high society. In the future, just attend a gathering and showcase a painting among the wealthy, and you could earn millions. With the title of the master’s top disciple, you could reach the pinnacle of life!”
“Wow, let’s stop talking and focus on painting!”
“Come on, even if you go all out, your painting skills aren’t that good.”
“Shh! The master is coming over!”
All the children immediately fell silent, sitting up straight and pretending to be fully engaged in their artwork, pencils flying, each passionately painting with fervent expressions.
Hua Jie fell silent for a moment, wanting to look up and see what was happening, but she had just wetted her watercolor paper and hadn’t started coloring yet. If she didn’t hurry, the paper would dry and she’d have to start over.
She had to suppress her curiosity and dipped her brush into the paint to start drawing.
Just as the tip of her brush was about to touch the paper, a voice sounded from behind:
“After watercolor is diluted with water, the colors become faint. You should dip your brush fully into the paint and start painting; there shouldn’t be excessive dilution. Otherwise, the colors will become lighter after drying, not achieving the desired effect, and you’ll need to apply another layer of color. Watercolor paper can become fuzzy and pill during repeated layering.”
Hua Jie swiftly lifted her arm before starting to paint. She turned to look at the middle-aged man standing behind her, then glanced at her brush. After a moment of thought, she followed his advice, squeezing excess water from the brush and remixing the colors.
Before starting to paint, she looked at the man again. When he nodded, she confidently began painting.
The colors spread beautifully on the wet paper, resembling lively spirits, flowing and extending into marvelous patterns.
Watercolor seemed to have its own life and will, not entirely under the control of the painter.
As Hua Jie looked at the painting, she felt a sense of happiness.
“The paper is too wet, and when wetting the paper, you should leave some air holes. Wet and dry areas create areas where the pigment doesn’t spread, leaving white spaces when coloring.”
“Did you study gouache before? The basic techniques for watercolor are completely different from gouache.”
“And the paper mounting isn’t done well; it’s a bit bulging here.”
The middle-aged man casually pointed out Hua Jie’s current major issues.
“Yes. Do you paint watercolors?” Hua Jie looked up.
“I originally studied traditional Chinese painting, then switched to watercolor, and finally switched to oil painting.” The man briefly explained his painting journey, then gestured to the painting she was copying from the book, disagreeing with it.
“Publishing standards nowadays are too lax. The composition of this painting is unbalanced, giving the impression of a skewed center of gravity. Moreover, the two still-life objects weren’t considered in relation to each other when coloring, creating a mess.”
Hua Jie looked up in astonishment. She had questioned this issue just now but wasn’t entirely sure because of her lack of expertise in watercolor.
Now, hearing him say it, she instantly understood that even examples in published materials weren’t necessarily authoritative.
“You’re so talented!” she exclaimed sincerely, then eagerly flipped to the first two pages of the book. “Look, isn’t the perspective of this painting also incorrect?”
“Yes, it is,” Shen Jiaru nodded, casually pulled over a nearby chair and sat down, picked up the pencil on her desk, drew a few lines on the page, and corrected the perspective.
“That’s it! I made a similar correction!” Hua Jie smiled as if she had found a kindred spirit, took out a copied painting that she had been working on, and showed it to him. “Look, when I copied it, I corrected the incorrect perspective from the original painting.”
“Yes, you did the perspective correction well. It’s just that the watercolor painting is too messy,” Shen Jiaru disagreed, pointing out with the pencil, “Here, you layered the colors two or three times to achieve the color biting effect, right?”
“Yes! You noticed it right away!” she praised.
“And here, you should have used wet-on-wet technique, but you didn’t wet the paper enough.”
“Oh… I didn’t wet it enough.”
“And here, you should have left some air holes. The two colors are completely fighting, making it look ugly.”
“Sorry, I’m just a beginner in watercolor…” Hua Jie felt a bit embarrassed.
“And, even though your drawing foundation is so good, why did you ignore your sketching knowledge when painting with watercolor? These areas are completely haphazardly drawn.”
“Yes…” Hua Jie’s face turned slightly red.
The children watching quietly from the side all widened their eyes in amazement.
Wow!
It’s the first time they’ve seen someone give advice to Hua Jie!
They thought she was the kind of formidable person who never made mistakes.
In this light, this uncle is indeed formidable. He’s left Hua Jie speechless with his critiques.
“Whether it’s watercolor or oil painting, they’re just mediums for depicting what’s in your mind. What’s important is expression, conveying information. What are you afraid of? Draw watercolor the same way you draw sketches.”
“All painting techniques are invented by people. With your strong foundation, you can be more daring.” Shen Jiaru crossed his legs.
Hua Jie turned her head towards Shen Jiaru with sparkling eyes. “Teacher, only someone as talented as you dares to paint like that!”
She hasn’t even mastered the basic techniques of watercolor yet.
Shen Jiaru glanced at the girl briefly.
Pure white sweater, simple school uniform pants, a pair of slightly old but clean leather shoes.
Her short hair was simple yet refreshing, her eyes bright, her demeanor friendly with a hint of cleverness. She didn’t show any hesitation or timidity when talking to him like a child facing a stranger.
She was confident and composed. When she looked at him with curved eyes, although there was admiration and respect, her relaxed demeanor made him feel as if they were peers.
“Do you like watercolor?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she nodded.
“Since you’re already so good at gouache, why bother trying to paint watercolor, which you’re not good at?” Shen Jiaru frowned slightly, his eyes showing genuine curiosity: